This week was extremely difficult for our entire family. Atticus was up more than usual Saturday night and was super fussy–which isn’t like him at all. He will usually nurse about 3 times a night and has no problem with going right back to sleep and he rarely cries, so I knew something was going on with him. We had eaten out the previous evening, so I thought that maybe something I ate was not agreeing with his tummy. He would grunt like he had gas, but then his grunt would turn into a cry. I was pretty much up all night holding him and trying to get him to pass what I thought was gas.
In the morning, I handed him over to Chris so I could get up and get breakfast going for Logan. Atti felt hot to Chris, so we took his temp. It was 101. I immediately started freaking out. I don’t have much experience with sick kids, much less a sick newborn. Logan has only been sick a couple of times in his whole life, and those were when he was over a year old. I posted in a Facebook group that I’m in with some local moms and asked for advice. I also texted our midwife and called our pedi. Everyone unanimously said to take him to the ER… preferably one at a children’s hospital. My stomach sank and I could feel the bile rise in my throat. I hate hospitals. Loathe them, in fact. But with everyone telling me that this was what needed to happen, we started getting ready to go. Luckily, Nana and Pop Pop live pretty close, so they were able to come and get Logan. We are so grateful to them for dropping everything to come help us out that morning. I can’t even imagine what our hospital visit would have looked like if we would have had a toddler in tow.
When we arrived, we were immediately put into a room in the ER. Atti’s temperature had risen to 101.1. The doctors came in to tell us about their standard procedures for any baby under 28 days old who presents with a fever higher than 100.3. He was to have blood drawn, a urine sample taken by catheter, a lumbar puncture (aka spinal tap), a stool sample, and possibly a chest x-ray.
Holy.
Shit.
My stomach dropped a little further and my guts twisted up inside. How in the hell was I going to be able to stand there and comfort my tiny guy while they did all of this to him. And were all of these tests 100% necessary? The questions started and I’m pretty sure that the doctors and nurses thought that we were crazy. I grilled our nurse about his experience cathing an uncircumcised baby and made sure he knew to not retract. I was all up in their business when they messed up the IV in one of his hands and had to move to the other one. Chris even freaked out when they wanted to give Atticus Tylenol. I’m sure they thought we were nutso. But, I’d rather be seen as a crazy person than be passive and not completely understand what they had to do and why.
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I will say that standing there next to him while the nurse held him down and watching him turn purple as he screamed while they poked and prodded away was probably the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to endure as a parent. More difficult than labor. More difficult than day after day of toddler tantrum torture. I wanted to scoop him up, blow up the hospital, and run away. The nurses saw the anguish in our faces and encouraged us to step away if we needed to, but there was no way that we would be able to leave him alone. I stayed in his face so he could see me and know that I was there. Chris held his tiny hand. We both cried.
After they did all of their tests, we were told that we were getting admitted. This was also part of their standard protocol for a baby under 28 days old who presented with a high fever. Their concern was bacterial meningitis, so they wanted to get him in a room and start IV antibiotics while we waited for the cultures to come back. Bacterial meningitis is really scary and can kill babies pretty quickly, so it was important to go ahead and get him on the meds sooner rather than later.
In hindsight, I will say that all of the doctors and nurses that we dealt with in the ER were super nice and understanding. They took the time to thoroughly explain what they wanted to do and why. And even answered all of our questions– and we had a bunch. Maybe we weren’t their first set of crazy parents after all.
We spent the next 2 days in the hospital. Most of our stay is a blur. We had amazing nurses on the floor. They were 100% supportive of breastfeeding and even brought me a pump to use to keep my supply up since he wasn’t nursing as often. They were fine with me sleeping with Atticus in the recliner. They were supportive of our millions of visitors and didn’t seem to get too annoyed with our ridiculous sense of humor. Basically, everything I was worried about was not even an issue. Thank God. I couldn’t have handled fighting off unsupportive hospital staff while trying to take care of a sick baby.
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We are so grateful for all of the love and support that our friends and family showed us during our stay. From the phone calls and text messages, to the visits in the hospital… and even the support we were shown on Facebook with people thinking about us and sending Atticus healing vibes and prayers. We were overwhelmed and our hearts full. It made things so much easier knowing that we have so many people who care about our little family.
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Nana and Pop Pop brought big brother Logan came for a visit, too. But he wouldn’t stand still for a picture with Atticus. He was much more interested in all of the cords hanging off the baby and the cool machines in the room.
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During our initial exam when we were admitted, the doctor found a pilonidal dimple on Atti’s back. They ordered an ultrasound to make sure that the dimple wasn’t a hole that went all the way to his spinal cord. On the morning that we went for the ultrasound, they required me to wear the full hazmat gear to carry him out of the room. He was on contact isolation, so all of the nurses and doctors would wear this when they’d come in the room, but I wasn’t expecting that I’d have to wear it.
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After 48 hours of being at the hospital, the labs came back negative and we were sent home with a diagnosis of viral meningitis. While it’s scary for a tiny newborn to have a high fever and feel icky, viral meningitis is not as bad as its bacterial counterpart, so we were definitely happy with the diagnosis. And this guy was happy to go home and get those yucky cords taken off.
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The remainder of our week was spent getting well and getting used to being back at home. 
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On Friday, we took Atticus to our pedi for our post hospital check up. Everything checked out and he looked completely healthy. And he weighed in at 10 lbs 9 oz, cause he’s a little piggy! 🙂
